


I Know What You Want, I Think This Is It

by ang3lsh1, kageillusionz, orphan_account



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Facials, First Time, Gay Mutant Road Trip, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 01:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2754548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lsh1/pseuds/ang3lsh1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageillusionz/pseuds/kageillusionz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles offers to give Erik a hand when he catches the latter masturbating in the shower of their dingy motel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know What You Want, I Think This Is It

Erik’s body is a dangerous weapon. His whipcord muscles are honed like the fine edge of a blade made of tempered Damascus steel. Simmering away underneath Erik’s skin is the potential to unleash fury. All that awaits is the spark to ignite his ire.

Though he seems ambivalent about how attractive he is, the men and women on the street that pass by notice. It is either ambivalence or obliviousness, Charles can't decide. That is what sets him and Erik apart. Charles would have indulged anyone interested during his university days. It drove Raven mad and lead to frivolous, yet no less accurate, labels about his promiscuity.

But even though Erik's interest in sex with strangers is minimal, the body is more honest than the mind. And it _craves_ for release. Charles finds that out one morning when he hears Erik wanking in the shower. The showers in the run-down motel they're staying at is not loud enough to mask the grunts coming from the bathroom. Sounds Charles will never be able to unhear.

And Gods above, Charles wants to hear how Erik’s breath hitches when he is the conductor of Erik's pleasure. He wants to run his hands, lips, and tongue all over Erik’s feverish hot skin. But Charles knows his overtures, his fantasies of Erik, are unwelcome. He keeps those sinful thoughts locked away in the deepest recesses of his mind, protected by his stalwart resolve.

The problem is Charles’ resolve has never had a stellar record, if Oxford was any example to go by. And it only takes three days for it to break.

Charles will later make the excuse that it wasn’t his resolve that faltered. When prompted by his full bladder demanding for release, no one can resist that particular call. Just like how it would take a lesser man to resist the tantalizing view of Erik's broad muscular back presented at him.

The bath tiles appear rice in colour under the light that filters through the frosted windows. In the mirror’s reflection he sees Erik in the shower with his back turned towards him. One hand wrapped around his jaw and the other hidden out of view. He has his suspicions where that hand is. Charles’ face floods with warmth as his imagination gallops away with where exactly Erik’s hand is.

Charles clears his throat and turns off the squeaky tap. Thoughts rush in every direction, a thousand different scenarios playing out in his mind, and each filthier than the previous.

_Oh._

Well then.

Erik doesn’t turn around and Charles, not for the first time in his life, wishes he could use his telepathy to find out why. And the what and the how, and whether or not Erik needed any help. Right?

“Charles...”

At the sound of his name, Charles turns around slowly, the edge of the bathroom counter digging into his lower back when he leans against it. He rakes his eyes over Erik’s back, surprisingly unmarked by scars no doubt attesting to Erik’s mutation. He starts from the top, taking in the slant and shape of Erik’s neck, where hair that glints copper and gold in the sun now lies damp and brown over his skin. Charles follows the path of a small rivulet as it curls down his spine, toying with the cervical portion at a snail’s pace until it join the small puddle in one of his back dimples, slowly overflowing only to disappear between Erik’s buttocks. Charles most certainly wants to follow that trail down and find out the precise taste of Erik.

If Erik doesn’t want Charles in the same room as him, then surely the towel rack flying towards him would have done the trick, which means that some portion of Erik, no matter how tiny it may have been, didn’t mind his company.

“Erik.”

“Charles.” There’s a definite strain to Erik’s voice now that urges Charles forward, each step bolder than the one before it.

“I could give you a hand, if you want,” Charles finds himself saying, low and confident, despite the tremble in his hands that long to reach out and touch. “I could make this very good for you, Erik. Have you ever had someone wrap their hand around you?”

Erik’s head gives a minute shake, and Charles wonders if he’s imagining the tips of Erik’s ears turning red in the light that filters in from the frosted bathroom window.

“Is that a no that I should leave or a no that I should...?” Charles deliberately leaves that sentence unfinished, giving Erik the chance to draw his own conclusions.

“I’ve never…” Erik trails off, pausing as though to steel himself before giving a minute shake of his head, spraying Charles with tiny drops. “I want you to stay,” he says. And as if it were barely the ghost of an afterthought, Erik adds a small ‘please’.

How can Charles ever refuse him help? No one would have been able to resist.

“Pick a word,” Charles says breathlessly, roughly yanking his sleeping shirt over his head and unties the drawstrings of his pants. “Pick a word and I promise I will stop whatever I’m doing if it becomes too much for you.”

Erik’s breaths are ragged, his chest shuddering through his frame. He sounds almost offended, emotionally detached, as he says, “I’m sure I can take it.”

“If we’re going to do this, I insist on doing it as safely as possible. It’s in your best interest. So, pick a word, Erik.” He’s close enough that Erik must feel the heat radiating off Charles from behind him, so close and yet so far. “Pick a word,” Charles insists. “Or everything stops here,” he whispers in Erik’s ear like silk over steel.

“Copper,” Erik hisses, his body shuddering visibly.

“Copper,” Charles repeats to himself, burning the word into his memory. “Don’t turn around.” He lifts a hand to wrap around the back of Erik’s neck, thumb resting upon the temporomandibular joint. “I want you to keep your hands on the riser rail in front of you. Will you trust me? ”

Erik takes a long moment to himself, not agreeing, not moving, merely breathing. Just as Charles thinks that Erik will change his mind, withdraw inside his shell and demand that Charles leave, Erik exhales, long and slow, and he watches the tension melt away.

“Yes.”

Charles lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Satisfied with Erik’s response, he presses in close behind him, under the warm spray. He ducks his head and holds Erik in his arms, settles one hand on Erik’s hip as the other fans out, taking in the the edges and grooves of the man’s abdominal muscles, feeling them flutter beneath his palm and fingertips at Erik’s shallow intakes of breath. With Erik hunched over like that, he’s at the perfect height for Charles’ lips to press against the first thoracic vertebrae in a featherlight kiss.

“Breathe, darling, deep breaths.” Charles reminds him, feeling a little silly when he gives Erik a belly rub to soothe him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

One should never underestimate the powers of the belly rub and soon the tense lines of Erik’s shoulders begin to relax.

“Good boy,” Charles says over the sound of the shower, each word caressing Erik’s right shoulderblade. He kisses a horizontal line to the left one and cannot resist in biting down on the flesh there, pulling a surprised gasp from Erik’s throat.

The hand on Erik’s belly trails down to wind around the wiry nest of curls, tugging on them gently, eliciting a whine from Erik’s throat. Charles’ other hand slides up from Erik’s hip, skimming up his sternum before plucking at one nipple, hard from the tepid water. It startles another gasp from Erik, and Charles wants to coax every sound from him and bottle it all up. Because Erik, this silent man who has never allowed another to touch him this intimately, is flushed all over and choking out tiny moans as Charles twists a pink bud between his fingers, pulling it gently so that Erik’s back arches and his head tips backwards. He’s so wanton, it’s endearing, especially so when Erik bites on his lip to keep from embarrassing himself further.

But Charles wants to hear him. He wants to make Erik feel so good that he screams from pleasure.

Charles’ hand leave those sensitive nippples to slide up and cup Erik’s jaw, middle finger brushing against his bottom lip before turning his face towards him.“You’re not allowed to force yourself to be quiet. I want to hear you,” he says before pressing a short, chaste kiss to Erik’s lips.

Erik’s mouth is pressed thin and Charles licks across them, digs his fingers a little harder into the chiseled jaw until Erik’s mouth opens for Charles to slide his tongue in. It’s an awkward angle and makes for sloppy kisses, but the feel of their tongues rubbing against each other with just the right pressure, is enough for Erik to groan and for Charles’ cock to harden at the sound of it.

“Now, I believe I promised you something, darling.” The curve of Charles’ lips turns wicked as the hand that was gently toying with the curls of his pubic hair, travels lower to skim lightly over his balls before gently stroking up the shaft of his cock, teasing over the slit of his cockhead. He wraps his hand around Erik’s cock, tugging on it gently.

“How do you like it best?” He asks, giving a few slow pumps, “Slow and gentle?” He tightens his grip and tugs a little firmer, being sure to rub his thumb over the sensitive head after each stroke. “Or do you prefer it hard and fast?”

Erik’s knees lose their rigidness and almost buckle, saved only by the hand wrapped securely around the rail. He rests his head against his right forearm and hisses something in German. His hips are slowly moving, dragging his cock in and out of Charles’ fist for friction. Charles has to take his hand away.

“You haven’t answered my question, love,” Charles says. It’s worrying that Erik doesn’t let Charles in on how he feels. He doesn’t allow Charles in his head, doesn't say when something bothers him. That’s why he’d insisted on a safeword. Although it’s clear to see that the handjob isn’t something that bothers Erik, it’s far from botherable. The only thing that frustrates Erik is needing to say it, to answer Charles’ queries of how he wants the pleasure to be. Erik’s hand comes off the railing and he reaches behind to grab Charles, bringing his wrist towards his groin in a silent plea. Charles tsks and pulls out from his grasp, grabs and redirects Erik to where both hands are to stay.

“What did I say?” He squeezes Erik’s wrist in warning.

Erik’s head loll forward. “Charles… please don’t tease.”

Charles hums thoughtfully. “Ahh, yes. I’m sorry,” his tone unapologetic, “I did interrupt you in the middle of something.” The hand on Erik’s belly slides languidly downwards, past the trail of dark hair that grew into a thick thatch of hair at the base of Erik’s rather impressive erection. “But you must keep your hands where I’ve asked for you to place them. Can you do that, Erik? Can you be good for me?”

“I…” Erik’s fingers are clinging onto the metal so tightly his knuckles have gone white. The water turns hot for a moment and Charles feels like his skin is scalding, but it shuts off entirely and he sighs, holding himself against Erik as he touches him lazily.

“Can you, Erik?”

Erik makes a strangled noise. “Yes. I… I can be good for you.”

“Yes,” Charles sighs and smiles, nuzzling his cheek against a broad shoulder. “You know, I’m really surprised you’ve never had anyone throw themselves at your feet and offer to do unspeakable things to you.” He peels himself from along Erik’s back, smiling like the naughty cat that got the cream and scoots backwards, bringing Erik with him. He’s unable to resist grinding down into Erik’s gloriously plush and firm behind.

“Charles… What…?”

He lets out a thoughtful hum, taking a moment to kiss at one of the freckles on Erik’s back. A finger makes its way slowly in between Erik’s buttocks, his other hand clamping down on a slim hip when Erik tries to buck away. “Shhh,” he soothes. “It’s alright. Do you want me to stop?”

“No. It’s just…” Erik takes a deep breath. “—strange.”

Charles smiles, pressing a litany of kisses over Erik’s shoulder blades until a few minutes later he’s slowly kissing a path downwards.

“Charles… W-what are you doing?”

“Something that I’ve not done in some time,” Charles says as his knees make the acquaintance of the tiled bathroom floor. “Remember what I said about keeping your hands on the bar.” He spreads Erik open and leans in, giving a tentative lick at the opening.

“Charles?” Erik sounds choked off and small, uncertainty lacing his name.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will.”

And then he parts Erik, spreads him wide and open and laves at his hole, dragging the broad of his tongue over the puckered skin. Erik yelps and makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat. Charles doesn’t let up, he does it again, starts from his perineum this time, flicking his tongue over Erik’s hole when he gets there. It seems to draw out the largest reaction when Charles uses the tip of his tongue, so he flicks it up and down, fast, and Erik’s buttocks tense, trying to keep the intrusion out.

Charles merely laughs, he grasps either cheeks and kneads. “You’re awfully wound up. You should learn to relax.”

“How do you expect me to relax when you’re—” Erik pauses, unable to finish his sentence.

“When I’m rimming you? There’s a term for it, you know,” he chuckles.

“I know the term, I’m just… No one’s touched me before.” Erik’s back is hunched when Charles looks up and it seems as though he might draw away again. Charles places his palm atop his lower back, rubbing concentric circles there to soothe the man’s nerves.

“I know,” Charles says. It was a little selfish of him, perhaps, to let Erik’s first sexual experience with another to be in this tiny bathroom, and not where it should be, in bed, relaxed and slow so that Charles can properly learn the juts and curves of his body. It’s too late for that now, not when Erik’s caught between wanting more and unwilling to beg, arousal making itself known as his body flushes a warm, lovely pink. There will be other opportunities for slow, gentle exploration; for now, he wants desperately to taste Erik and wreck him with mind-blowing pleasure.

“I’ll make this good for you, I promise. Part your legs for me, love.” Erik does as requested and Charles purrs, “There’s a good boy.” Erik shivers at that, unsure if it was the tone or the words that he’s responding to, Charles takes note to explore this at his leisure in the near future.

His mouth is on Erik again, kissing wetly at the pink hole, lapping generously at it, trying to memorize Erik’s taste. Mild, heady, clean, earthy. Erik is tight when he squeezes the tip of his tongue in, licking him inside as far as he can manage. It’s not as deep as he would like to go but it makes Erik moan all the same, the sound cracked and high-pitched, the muscle of his pucker clenching down on Charles’ tongue, squeezing him out. Charles groans, the friction of it on the tip of his tongue makes it sensitive and pleasurable — he’s always had an oral fixation — and he dives back in, uses his thumbs to pry him apart, keeping Erik open and exposed.

“Charlessss,” Erik hisses, his hands clench hard on the rails, only Charles’ orders keeps him from melting them away so that he can reach down to take his cock in hand and jerk off until he’s coming all over the shower tiles. He’s dizzy with lust and frazzled enough that he can only form singular words instead of full sentences. Sensations of _want, desire, need,_ washes over Charles. He’s pleased that he’s managed to make Erik lose coherency with arousal, watching as that lovely long cock twitches heavily between his legs.

“I want to... I want to come. Let me… please.”

“Not yet,” Charles says, and blows over the puckered flesh that clenches on nothing. Charles circles over the rim several times with his forefinger, watching Erik squirm at the sensation, unsure whether to press back or pull away from Charles’ ministrations. He wriggles his thumb past the muscle, saliva easing the way. It’s larger and firmer than how his tongue would feel and when Erik clenches down this time, he whimpers and scrambles away, hands skittering over the rail, taking one step forward and pulling off Charles’ hand entirely.

“It’s weird,” Erik explains, leaning in close to the metal railing.

“Good weird? Or bad weird?”

Erik seems conflicted for a moment before settling on, “Good weird.” He turns to look over his shoulder and Charles catches his gaze. Erik’s face is flushed red and his lashes are lowered because of the angle, though his eyes are wet - whether from the water or from tears it’s hard to tell - the desire in them hasn’t dimmed, if anything he looks determined to continue on. Charles’ cock twitches at the surge of lust in his veins. Erik is gorgeous like this.

He laughs and presses his thumb back inside, this time sliding it all the way up to the last knuckle; Erik is feverishly hot and velvet soft as his channels squeeze around him as though trying to suck Charles in. He keeps Erik plugged open like this and gives him time to adjust to the girth while he licks at the skin stretched around the digit, coating the area with saliva. Erik should have had enough time to get used to the feel of something in his ass and so Charles pulls his thumb out and shoves it back inside - hard.

The sound Erik makes is nothing like Charles has ever heard before, but Charles wants to hear it again and again until Erik comes from being only finger fucked. He starts to move his thumb in and out of Erik’s ass, stroking his inner walls. Charles places a hand on one of Erik’s hip and caresses him gently with a broad palm, patting his side, tracing the V of his pelvic bone and rubbing at his abdomen. He plays with the curls around Erik’s groin, twirling them around his finger, touching him everywhere but where he wants it most. He feels Erik grousing in his mind, how much he wants Charles to wrap his broad palm around Erik’s cock and stroke him to completion, and it makes Erik frustrated enough to curse under his breath, “tease,” he pants, grinding back against Charles’ thumb now, greedy for more.

“I never said I wasn’t,” Charles grins. He replaces his thumb with the index and middle fingers, and when he’s met with resistance he pulls them out to spit at Erik’s hole, coating it liberally with saliva before pressing them in again and twisting.

Erik shivers and gyrates his hips down on his fingers, panting heavily. He doesn’t need to be instructed, eager to chase his own pleasure now; fucking himself on Charles’ fingers, his greedy little hole trying to suck all of them in. “More… please.”

Charles bites his lower lip and holds his hand there, entranced by the way his fingers disappears inside Erik with each rocking motion. “That’s it,” Charles coos, “Keep going. Fuck yourself onto my hand, show me how much you want it.”

Erik arches his back and groans as he widens his stance, pushing hard onto Charles’ fingers, who curls them and rubs upwards in small circles. He curves them just so for his tips to drag over spongy flesh and Erik twitches. “Oh G-d, Charles.”

“You like that? You like how it feels?” Charles purrs as he feels out for that same spot and rubs at it, pressing down a little bit harder.

Erik’s grip tightens on the railing as he clings for dear life. His knees and thighs tremble when Charles sweeps one hand up the inside of them, pressing kisses into the soft skin of Erik’s thighs and follows a trail of water cascading over Erik’s back. “It… it feels good…Just let me come, Charles!”

“Just a little more,” Charles tutts as he thrusts his fingers into Erik, rams into his ass hard and fast, fucks his hole until it’s raw and puffy. He reaches round to take Erik’s cock in hand and wanks him off in time, closes his fist tightly around Erik so that Erik is overwhelmed on both ends. And then he shoves a third finger into him and Erik starts to jerk bodily, hips stuttering and asshole spasming around Charles’ fingers. He groans and comes over the shower tiles, splattering it with thick, sticky semen.

Charles keeps his hands loosely curled around Erik’s softening cock, content to keep rubbing him whilst sliding his fingers into Erik’s hole, gentler this time, stimulating the oversensitive nerves, with Erik still riding through his orgasm. Soon enough Erik gets too tight for him to fuck but he keeps him plugged open, spreading him gently with scissoring motions. He nuzzles the round curve of one cheek and sighs softly as he takes in Erik’s ragged breathing.

He’s so hard, he can barely breathe and he _wants_. He wants to take more of Erik, spread him wide open and claim this proud, fierce man in any way he can. But right now, Charles shouldn’t push too hard. He should be happy enough that Erik allowed him this. Charles pushes himself to his feet, ignoring his arousal for now, as he presses himself against Erik’s back, sliding his hand up the man’s flank in a soothing gesture, following that move of muscles as Erik draws in breath.

“Come on, let’s wash up and get out of here,” Charles whispers at Erik, careful to shield his arousal from him. He turns the tap on and water starts to flow, spraying at them both. Only, Erik turns and runs a hand through Charles’ hair, slicking the strands back against his skull.

“But you haven’t finished yet, Charles,” Erik asks, puzzled. He gestures down to where Charles’ erection is pressing against his thigh, the cock moist with pre-cum and shower water.

“It’s alright Erik. More importantly, did you enjoy yourself?” Charles tries to change the subject. Erik doesn’t need this. Not yet anyway.

“Yes, but I want you to enjoy yourself too,” Erik insists, turning around fully to face Charles and then slowly sinks to his knees. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

Charles can’t deny the surge of lust at Erik’s words, his mouth going dry at the very thought of having Erik’s mouth in that manner. “Only,” his voice catches. Charles swallows and tries again. “Only if that’s what you want.”

Erik takes a deep breath and then wraps a hand around the base of Charles’ erection. He takes his time, pressing his face to it and mouthing at the shaft. Charles hisses out Erik’s name, his fingers digging into Erik’s hair and does his best to hold back. If Erik kept up this slow, exploratory pace, he is not going to last very long at all.

“Fucking hell… Who’s the tease now?”

Erik huffs out a sound and flicks his eyes upwards, meeting Charles. “I’ve never done this before,” he admits, wrist pumping languidly. “You’re going to have to give me some time to adjust.”

If Charles wasn’t already delirious with arousal, he would have accused Erik of being a minx. And then he flings a hand out to grip at the shower railing, the other fisting Erik’s hair tightly, when Erik’s tongue laps underneath the head of his cock.

Charles groans at the sight, tipping his head back underneath the warm water. His eyelids fall shut and he lets out a sigh, savouring the sensation and burning it into his memory.

“Swirl your tongue over it like that, yesssss.” Charles hisses, enjoying the rough swipe of Erik’s tongue and the hot burning brand of Erik’s hand clawing into the flesh of his arse. “Suck on the head, Erik. I’m not going to last very long...“

Obediently, Erik takes his instructions to heart and the pressure increases all around it. It’s sinful and Charles is convinced that if Erik kept that up he could very well suck out his soul from his dick.

“God stop,” Charles rasps hoarsely, pushing Erik off and takes over stroking himself off. “Open your mouth and close your eyes.” Erik lowers himself back onto his haunches and waits, small droplets of water bouncing off Erik’s tongue.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss Erik in public, pulling him into a darkened alleyway or even in the middle of the street with his telepathy hiding them from view. He thinks about having Erik in bed the next time, thinks about making slow sweet love to Erik as if they had all the time in the world. He thinks about having Erik underneath him, fucking himself on that monstrous cock and riding Erik to completion, watching Erik’s face slack from orgasm as he clamps down on Charles’ hips and grinds up into his body.

That imagery undoes the very last thread of his control and he comes all over Erik’s face, painting his cheeks and eyelashes in streams of pearlescent white. He slumps against the nearest wall, his chest heaving from the exertion.

Through his wet eyelashes, Erik still has yet to move from his position. His knees must be red from having knelt for so long, and Charles gently tugs him back onto his feet. A curious tongue sweeps over the corners of his mouth, making contact with Charles’ semen and Erik pulls a face though his eyes remain shut.

“It’s bitter.”

Charles can’t resist laughing and helps Erik wash himself clean. “No one told you to lick it.”

Erik blinks away the water from his eyes and gives Charles as solemn look. “I was curious...” He turns away quickly, probably as surprised as Charles felt, and the tap squeaks when he turns off the water. “We should probably get going… we have a lot of road to cover before we get to New Orleans.”

Before Erik can escape from the shower, Charles stops him with a hand on his forearm. “Are you… alright?”

Erik opens his mouth, ready to brush off Charles’ concern, but seemed to think better of it as he mulls over his next words. “Yes. I’m alright. More than alright, I enjoyed myself. Thank you, Charles.”

Charles lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Alright then,” he wants to press on and ask more, was it just physical or did Erik feel the same pull as Charles did but he’s also afraid to find that Erik might not, so he pulls a towel off the rack and offers it up to Erik in an effort to distract himself, “Like you said, plenty of road to cover...”

Brusquely, they towel themselves dry and finish up their morning ablutions, quickly packing their possessions into their luggage. Only when Erik is about to unlock the door with his powers does Charles shove him up against the back of it. He fists the lapels of Erik’s leather jacket and pulls him down in a searing kiss.

“Just one more for the road,” Charles whispers impishly, grinning upwards.

“How about another…” Erik murmurs and closes the gap between their mouths once more, his hand cupping the back of Charles’ neck. The kiss is almost too sweet and chaste, and Charles wants more than anything to taste every inch of Erik again. Wants to devour and claim the smooth expanse of sinew and skin, and knowing he shouldn’t, for fear of pushing Erik too far too fast.

Still, when Erik pulls back to breathe, Charles can’t help surging back up, chasing the taste of him. The touch of his tongue to Erik’s lips makes them part in surprise. He takes the opportunity to lick his way in, stroking his tongue over Erik’s and making him groan at the clear memory of Charles doing similar, filthy things to other intimate spaces.

He leans into Erik and feels a brush of pressure against his groin that sets his body alight, fire running down his spine. He clamps down on a moan. God damn, he’s getting hard again.

When they part, Charles can feel warm breath curling against his face. There’s a hazy glaze over those grey steely eyes when he steals a glance at Erik that contradicts the lust and want radiating from him, his thoughts ablaze with hot desire.

This time, it’s Erik that licks his lips and propositions. “I’ve picked my word. Copper,” and he grinds along Charles’ thigh, making his erection known. Charles moans. Glad that he isn’t the only one raring to go again. “Do you think we have enough time for a second round?”

Charles looks up and meets Erik’s gaze. The edges of his mouth curl into a sly smile.

“Get on the bed.”

They barely check out on time.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Fanfiction Translation**  
>  The talented [smilingbaby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/smilingbaby/pseuds/smilingbaby) has translated this fic into [Chinese](http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-145807-1-1.html). Thank you!!!
> 
> This all started when ebonytavern thrust [this picture](https://38.media.tumblr.com/a9e352dc9e71b499be9157d8edbdd620/tumblr_ncijonxeCL1s00m1wo1_500.jpg) at kageillusionz. Needless to say, this spawned into a several page long monstrosity. We have no regrets.
> 
> Our thanks go to **afrocurl and velvetcadence** for their awesome betaing skills.
> 
> You can find us on tumblr:  
> [ang3lsh1](ang3lsh1.tumblr.com), [ebonytavern](icedjellytea.tumblr.com) and [kageillusionz](kageillusionz.tumblr.com).


End file.
